


Merry Friendmas Fuckery

by sssweetdisposition



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssweetdisposition/pseuds/sssweetdisposition
Summary: “I thought I was playing a funny joke by buying you underwear for Christmas but didn’t realize our other friend swapped it out for skimpy lingerie as a prank” bonus points if it involves “what do you mean you want to try it on for me”
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 220





	Merry Friendmas Fuckery

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey there...nothing to see here...just me coming out of the void to drop this off for you all. Happy Holidays, everyone! Also, I nabbed this prompt off Tumblr (yeah, I braved that place after almost 2 years) but I don't know who it came from because it was grouped as a whole bunch of ideas from multiple people. If you know who it originally is from please, please, please leave me their handle in the comments so I can properly credit them. Thanks guys!

It’s dark in her bedroom save for the light of her laptop lighting her face. She’s fallen down the deep hole of online holiday shopping, already managing to find gifts for her cousins Anya and Lincoln but is now on the hunt for something to give her best friend. It can’t just be _any_ gift. It’s for _Clarke_. Clarke deserves more than anyone can ever possibly have. And _no, okay, _it has nothing to do with the big, fat crush she’s had on her housemate since, like forever, but it has everything to do with the fact that she’s just a very, very good person.

She has to take a moment to squeeze her eyes closed, hands coming up to rub the tiredness away. Taking a few seconds to stretch her arms, she looks around the room and out her window. It’s noticeably late. Though the streetlights near their apartment are on, she can see that the sky has reached the peak of its darkness so she decides to close her laptop, putting it on the night table beside her bed and reaching for her phone for a quick social media scroll. It’s a horrible habit, but there’s this cute dog account that Raven follows on Instagram and she’s always sending her stupid, funny videos to watch.

Before she can even move her finger over her messages, the feed refreshes and it’s not even an account she follows that pops up first. Instead, Lexa finds herself chuckling silently at the ad on her screen. Seasonal. Personalized. Underwear. It would be one of the _perfect _gifts for her friend. She could send in a picture of her face, have it decked out with Santa hats and reindeer antlers, and then have it plastered all over Clarke’s _generous _butt. Her _underwear_, not butt. She’s already gone through the process of personalizing and processing a payment before even two minutes go by, locking her phone and not even remembering about the cute, dumb dogs before getting cozy under the warm blanket and falling asleep.

It’s one week later when the package arrives and Lexa is tearing the box open the instant she gets back into the apartment, excitement and giddiness overcoming her. The three pairs of cotton underwear are hilariously perfect, just as she’d hoped. She holds one up to examine it. It’s a nice, solid green with light blue snowflakes and her own kissy face right there printed on multiple times. All of her other gifts are done, wrapped nicely and neatly in festive paper and placed under their tree, so she wastes no time in wrapping this one, not wanting Clarke to see it when she gets home.

* * *

Both her and Raven are at the apartment sitting at the kitchen table and have been going over some mechanics of a new project car that came into their shop recently. Clarke is out doing a maternity shoot for Octavia and Lincoln, so they have their privacy to geek out over their work without hearing teasing remarks. Their empty plates are pushed to one end of the table and they’re huddled on the seats side-by-side looking through photos on Lexa’s phone.

“The turbo on it is insane. I’ve only seen something like that once and that was when I was in Germany for that conference”, Lexa comments, hand absentmindedly grabbing her wine glass while she looks at the photos in front of her.

“If we could get that stocked in our shop it’d go like you wouldn’t believe, I’m telling you, Woods. It would be a crazy good investment”.

When the two of them met through Clarke in college they formed an instant friendship, gravitating towards each other through their mutual passion for building cars. The both of them had been working in different shops in their free time aside from school but would often talk about their dreams to run one of their own. After a while – _and much needed money_ – they decided to open one together, mixing both of their individual ideas until they both settled on a vision they agreed with.

“I think it’s definitely worth looking into”. It was well past 7pm and they had been at it for nearly an hour after finishing dinner.

“I’ll make some calls tomorrow to see how we can get our hands on something like that. Anyway, where’s that gift you got your lover? I wanna see how pukingly cute it is” the other girl smirked.

She rolls her eyes at the topic for what feels like the billionth time. “She’s not my lover”. It was annoyingly frustrating how much her friends saw right into her feelings for the blonde. It’s not that Lexa was trying to hide them, it’s just that her and Clarke have _always_ been best friends. And really, how does one shift that into something more if you’re not so sure about the other’s feelings? And no, it doesn’t matter that her friends keep telling her it’s reciprocated. She should hear it from Clarke herself first before acting on it.

The other brunette scoffs. “Yeah, right, you guys have had a hard on for each other since forever, you live together, and you’re telling me neither of you have ever made a move?”

“Not once”. She refrains from telling her friend about the Alone Time™ incident last month.

“I call bullshit. She’s hot, you’re hot. You’d both be into it. There’s no way there wasn’t one drunken moment or lonely night. _Oh, Clarke, good earth cleavage_”, she mocks.

“_Oh my gosh!_ That was one time, after you made me drink you under the table with tequila and I clearly was in a very deranged state of sleep. Plus, you’re too late, Reyes. Already wrapped and under the tree, right there, in that small box”, she says, pointing to the one with the red paper that has a green little polka dot pattern. She starts getting up from her seat and tucks her chair in before making her way out of the kitchen. “I’m going to shower and get comfortable, make yourself at home like you always do and put something on tv”.

And that, right there, she had no idea would be her biggest mistake.

* * *

It’s the weekend before the day Christmas actually falls on and everyone is gathered in the apartment for the yearly “Friendmas Fuckery” as Jasper and Monty like to call it. Lexa doesn’t quite know how it started, but her and Clarke’s apartment is the usual hangout spot for drink nights and it somehow turned into the place where all of their festivities were also held. She doesn’t mind, seeing all of her friends being comfortable in her apartment actually warms her, gives her a nice sense of home. It’s decked out in Christmas decorations as much as it possibly can be, a feat that Clarke seems to top every year, always finding more ways to be incredibly more festive. This year, colourful lights are strewn all around the room and she’s pretty sure it’s a fire hazard, but the smile on the blonde’s face when she flipped the light switch on was worth shutting her mouth about it.

The credits are about to roll on Home Alone when Bellamy speaks up from his seat beside his sister. “Alright you goons, it’s getting late, let’s do gifts before I pass the fuck out”.

“I told you not to eat so much”, Anya laughs, arm lazily around Raven’s shoulder. Lexa knows they’re sleeping together, hell, _everyone_ knows they’re sleeping together. They won’t say it out loud to anyone but they’re definitely not subtle in their fleeting glances, and _definitely_ not overtly obvious when they both seem to go missing at the same time. No one says anything though, they’re both the type of people who are too nonchalant for caring and eventually it’ll just come up on its own.

Lexa’s thankful for the suggestion of a break from her current predicament after Clarke sits up straight. For the last hour or so, the other girl has been huddled against her side, fingers drawing absentminded patterns across the top of her left thigh. If she hadn’t already watched the movie an abundance of times, she’s truthfully not sure if she’d be able to recall any of it. She spent the whole time trying to draw in deep, calming breaths without drawing any attention to herself, only getting caught once by Octavia who annoyingly wiggled her eyebrows in a _very_ suggestive manner.

They’re a few gifts in fifteen minutes later – Lincoln just setting aside the new ab roller his wife got him – when Monty hands Clarke the gifts Lexa got for her. “I don’t think you’re going to top my gift this year Lex, just saying. I’ve got some high expectations after what I got you”, she jokes, taking the two wrapped packages and moving to open the small one first.

Clarke loves gag gifts. Her dad used to _always_ give them and it’s the reason Lexa thought it’d be the perfect gift in the first place.

She watches her face, no one else. The way her baby blue eyes light up with the gift in her hand, still child-like and free. The way her lips curve into the big, boisterous smile that knocks the wind right out of her. The way that one, single dimple appears in her cheek. “Trust me, Griffin, you’ll love this one”. She hears Raven say something but pays no mind.

Clarke’s hands tear at the paper and open the giftbox, “I’ll be the judge of -” but when she reaches inside, she freezes. A noticeable dust of pink flushes to her cheeks and she closes the box without pulling out the contents.

“Come on, Clarke, you’ve gotta share!” Jasper yells, reaching for the box.

Lexa is still oblivious. There’s a hopeless, dopey grin on her face as she sits across from the blonde on the floor, thinking she really nailed it this year. But then Jasper is playfully trying to grab the box out of Clarke’s hand and she’s fighting him through it, but his long arms manage to win, holding the girl away from him while his other hand fishes out the gift. Red is slowly being revealed and Lexa is confused because the underwear she bought was most definitely green and _oh no_ that’s not cotton, that’s definitely _lace_, and _oh my god where the fuck did that come from?_

Everyone is laughing. At the top of their lungs, full out, bent over wiping tears from their eyes laughing. Her face drops the happy smile and she’s torn between staring in shock at the _very_ sexy, _very _revealing piece of teddy lingerie hanging from the guy’s grip and Clarke’s face which she can’t really gauge one specific emotion from. _How the ever-loving fuck did that happen?_

“Oh man, Woods, you should see your face right now”, Raven pipes up, and when she turns to face her, she realizes _of course_ only one person would be so outright inappropriate.

She’s so confused as to how Raven even managed to pull this off but unfortunately Raven always manages to do what she wants to do. “_You _did this?”

“Oh, come on, Woods, it’s just a joke. Kinda nice though, don’t you think?” she smirks.

Lexa’s two milliseconds away from pouncing at her friend with the pillow that’s currently suffering from her deathly grip when Clarke pipes up. “I mean, it’s still a gag gift, Lex. Still got me, that’s for sure”.

It’s the calm smile that now sits on the blonde’s face that eases her back down.

* * *

The apartment is quiet now, aside from the rustling of the two of them moving around their small space of the living room, cleaning up after the night’s festivities. Lexa keeps sneaking quick glances at her friend, trying to see whether or not she truly was bothered by Raven’s antics. She seems contemplative. She’s definitely quiet, but more in thought than anything else. Distracted even. She’s doing that _thing_. That incredibly frustrating thing that gets Lexa all lusty where she bites her bottom lip and worries it just a smidge. The brunette forces herself to look away. “What time does your mom want us over on Christmas Day?” For the last few years, Lexa has been invited to the big Griffin holiday dinner. After telling Clarke that her and her cousins normally just had a get together for the three of them, they all found themselves welcomed year after year.

“Six, I think. I’ll double-check with her in the morning. Pass me that wrapping paper you have there?” she asks.

It’s when the brunette reaches for the garbage that she sees _the box_ again. She shakes her head and grabs at the discarded wrapping, handing it to Clarke. “I almost forgot; Raven told me where she hid your actual gift. Let me go get it”. She’s just about to walk out of the living room and down the hall before a warm hand catches her arm. She turns to face Clarke but the look on her face is different now. It’s not full of thoughts or off in space as it had been just a few moments ago. _Oh no_, now…now it’s the same look that she had when the Alone Time™ incident happened. A look that Lexa buried deep, deep down because welp, here’s that lusty feeling again. It makes her instantly jittery, fingers curling and uncurling at her side to keep from grabbing Clarke’s red sweater and pulling her closer.

She’s stepping closer into Lexa’s space and honestly, _hello_, but at the same time _what in God’s name is happening_. The brunette gulps and inches back slightly, trying to increase the distance between them again. “I was actually thinking that maybe I could try on the thing that’s in the living room for you”.

It’s all Lexa had to hear before having her brain feel like it’s short-circuiting. _Try it? For what? Why? What? Huh?_ Blue eyes are nearly covered black by her enlarged pupils and she looks nearly predatory the way she’s staring unblinkingly and _still_ walking into the brunette’s space. The brunette who is now almost backed fully into the coffee-coloured wall of their hallway. “You – what – the thing – the – why? You want? What do you mean you want to try it on for me?” Words are hard, okay? She’s a grown-ass woman, damnit. She needs to compose herself.

But then Clarke’s right hand comes up and her fingers lightly brush along her exposed collarbone and _welp_, there goes her breath, surely an evident gasp escaping from her mouth. “Well, it _is _one of my gifts and it’d be a shame to let it just sit in my drawer. How about you go wait in your room and I’ll be there in two minutes?”

* * *

She’s still so very, incredibly, undeniably confused at the shift in their night but Clarke wants to put lingerie on for her and who the hell is she to say no to that? All she can do is nod, mind still on Mars. And suddenly Clarke steps back slightly to let her slip out of their bubble, so she does as she was asked and moves into her room, closing the door just a little bit once she’s inside. _Does she stand? Lean on the wall? Sit on the bed? Sit. Definitely sit. _She needs to take a fucking breath before her mind explodes. The comforter under her is soft, it’s calming when she runs her hands across it and when she does, she realizes she’s nervous. Okay, _yes_, this is _great_, and _yes, obviously _she’s wanted this. Dreamt of this. Hoped for this. But does Clarke just want to try it on? Or does Clarke want to try it on for someone she’s into? She doesn’t get too much time to overthink it because there’s a gentle knock at the slightly open door.

“Lex?”

The brunette is sure someone slipped something in her hot chocolate earlier because the woman standing in her room three feet from her is most definitely an angel. _Yup_, these are some good drugs. Every curve, every dimple, every single inch of pale, beautiful, mouth-watering skin is visible, some covered lightly by that damn unholy piece of lace and _oh my god_ Lexa is absolutely done for. And then Clarke giggles and the brunette realizes she staring – hard – and maybe she shouldn’t because they’re only best friends, right? A warmth graces her cheeks and she forces her eyes to stay on the blonde’s. “What -” she tries but has to clear her throat. When the heck did she get so parched? “What’s happening?”

“Well,” she drawls, stepping closer once again, “I’m in the giving, holiday spirit,” and her hands land softly on tense shoulders, “and I’m saving you from making the first move”. Then it all happens quick after that. There’s a sudden blaring heat on her lap and _holy fucking Santa Claus _Clarke’s sitting on her lap. In sexy, red lingerie. _Dear Frosty the Snowman_ her boobs are _inches_ from her face. “This is okay?”

And through her haze she thinks it’s sweet that she would ask. She can only nod dumbly again. But then Clarke is moving her face closer, and her eyes dip to Lexa’s lips and as much as Lexa wants this there’s that nagging at the back of her head – the _very, very back_ right now – that needs to stop this because if Clarke only wants a quick fuck then her heart won’t take that very well. Her hands land on the blonde’s shoulders, halting her movement. “Clarke, wait”. She’s nervous now. Not like she was before, but nervous because now she’s going to come clean about her feelings and _what if she doesn’t feel the same_. “Clarke I – there’s something I – I need to – _ugh_”. Words are still hard. Her head falls comically and then she’s staring to her left at the wall for a moment to gather herself, eyes landing on the photo of the two of them in fits of laughter taken at the Woods Summer cottage.

“Lexa,” a gentle hand guides her gaze back to blue eyes. They’re more relaxed now. No mischievous glint or dangerous twinkle. “I know”, she whispers softly, her lips upturn slightly, “I do too”.

Is that a drum march? _Oh_, nope, her heart is just beating like a billion times faster, no big deal. Clarke likes her? _Loves_ her? “You love me?” Her voice is so small, almost fragile. And then a thumb is lightly brushing across her cheek with the most delicate touch.

“I love you, Lexa”.

And well, that’s really all she needs right now because _hello_, there’s still an extremely beautiful, almost naked angel sitting on her lap that was ready to jump her bones like two minutes ago. Her left hand finds its purpose on a smooth thigh while her other reaches to bring that gorgeously, heart-stopping face closer until _finally, freaking finally_ she feels Clarke’s lips on her own and _Mary, Jesus, and Joseph_, Merry fucking Friendmas Fuckery to her.


End file.
